Forbidden
by prophet-of-troy
Summary: She didn't know when or how it happened, but she loved him. Even if his heart belonged to another.


Hogwarts was falling down around them, crumbling down in the form of large walls as she, Harry, and Ron made their way through the chaos to get to the boat house. It was dark out now, but their way was lit with expels of magic from both sides clashing and fire from the destruction. They'd known that Voldemort had gained support from the giants, but knowing was different from seeing the large figures swinging heavy trees at people as though the trees were nothing more than light sticks one might use to flick away insects. Werewolves descended, dementors brought their gloom, and Hogwarts was grossly outnumbered.

"This way!" Harry shouted to them over the noise, leading them down.

They could hear talking as they got close, Harry throwing the Invisibility cloak over the three of them- which she couldn't help but notice felt much smaller than it once had. Snape had arrived, as Harry had known he would, and Hermione's breath was stolen upon hearing his voice. He was still alive. She'd known he had been, known that someone would have said if he wasn't.

Hermione wasn't sure when it happened; maybe in her second year when she watched him throw Lockhart on his back with ease, or their third year when he bravely threw himself between them and Remus who'd been lost to the moon. She didn't know why; perhaps it was in the way he made her strive for perfection in his acerbic criticism, or his hard to miss brilliance in his classroom that no one else ever seemed to see aside from Dumbledore. Maybe it was his voice.

But she loved him. She'd loved him perhaps from the first time she sat in his classroom and hung on the edge of her seat at his beginning of the year speech. She'd first realized in fourth year, when she'd overheard a conversation wherein he promised the headmaster to keep an eye on Harry. She'd held onto the belief that under all of that acid he was on their side. Until Harry declared Dumbledore had been murdered.

Harry'd known. She knew that he knew, having been confronted about it in the time it was just the two of them and Ron was off doing whatever it was he thought was more important than hunting for horcruxes.

 _"You love him don't you," Harry asked, holding a few old essays she'd kept that held her favorite comments written in Snape's hand._

 _She froze, standing at the entrance with firewood in her arms. "Where did you get those?"_

 _But she knew. She'd had them out and near her things after having caught a glance at the Marauders Map and found him pacing. Pacing in Dumbledore's office the way its previous occupant used to._

 _"But you do, don't you?" She nodded, unable to argue. "How long?"_

 _He didn't sound angry the way she thought he might, but he became rather mild without Ron for his bitterness to bounce off of. Not knowing how to answer, she merely said, "A while."_

 _Harry looked her in the eyes and nodded, a sort of determination in his emeralds. He crumbled the parchment that she'd held so dear and pushed passed her towards the fire outside._

 _"Harry, Harry, no. Don't!" She dropped the firewood and ran after him, trying to grab him before he could destroy them, but he already tossed them into the fire. And watched them burn._

 _Hermione knelt down and tried to pull them out, the flames licking at her before Harry pulled her back to keep her from hurting herself._

 _"Snape's a murderer!" He shouted. "You're only going to get hurt, because after I kill Voldemort, I'm going to kill him."_

 _She stood, rounding on him. "And what about Malfoy? I know it isn't Ginny you watch on that map! I know it's him! How is Malfoy any better? He tried to killed Dumbledore as well. You said it yourself."_

 _"He was lowering his wand," Harry defended._

"Perhaps you already know it?" Voldemort was saying present in a conversational tone that reminded Hermione of Dumbledore. "You are a clever man, after all."

Severus Snape was more than clever, more than clever by far, as was Hermione. But she didn't quite understand.

"The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner-"

Hermione moved suddenly, just as suddenly being grabbed by Ron and Harry to keep her from going to him. Voldemort was going to kill him. He was going to kill Snape. She fought them for a moment, the scuffle they made being masked by the sounds of distant war.

Voldemort said something in the language of serpents, the hissing conveying no information until she could see the snake attack the only man she'd ever really loved. And she could guess what he'd said. Her scream was covered by his, and Harry's hand that covered her mouth- his eyes showing pity for her. His own forbidden love was safe.

It wasn't until Voldemort and his monster swept from the room that Harry and Ron finally let go of her and the former uncovered them. She pulled from them and fell to her knees beside him, rummaging through her bag with shaking hands and tears that leaked from her face. Dittany. She had to have some more dittany. Or blood replenishers.

"Take... it..." the man rasped beside her, weakly gesturing to the liquid coming from his eyes. Tears, mixed with blood and something blue. They were memories.

She pulled out a flask and held them to his face, finding his hand with her other one. When Harry appeared next to her, she shoved them at him and ignored Ron trying to pull her away from the dying man. She pulled out vials of potions.

"Hermione, we have to go."

"No," she cried. "I can save him."

"It's Snape, Hermione, leave him!"

Hermione pulled her arm away from Harry who was now attempting. "You saved Draco! I know I can save him. You have to let me try!"

Harry looked tortured for a moment, glancing at the man he hated, before he nodded. "We'll meet you inside."

She barely noticed their leaving, barely noticed Ron asking questions, too focused on unstoppering the vials to empty in his mouth. He gargled the first one, the blood replenisher, and she gently rubbed the unwounded part of his neck to coax it down as his unfocused eyes looked around. The Dittany, she dripped into his neck. He jumped, screaming in pain as she watched the wound reclose. But there was something missing.

"The antivenin," she said. "You brilliant man, you have to have some. I know you have to have some!"

Her hands dug in the deep pockets of his robes looking for it. Anything. But there was nothing. She cried out, groaning at the lack of luck. "NO! I know you! You had to have thought about this!"

"Granger," he rasped, her potions taking hold and sustaining him for the moment. "Granger, stop."

Hermione stopped immediately, looking over to him with a hopeful face. "I can fix this, professor. You'll be fine. I promise! Everything will be okay."

Severus looked her, really looked at her, and noted that in the year since she'd sat in his class- she'd grown up. Torture will do that to a person, and he knew it had happened to her. She reminded him so of _Her._ How could she not? They were both muggleborn, both intelligent, both intent on fraternizing with Potters.

"No," he told her, though he hardly recognized his own voice. "I'm ready. I'm ready to die."

"No!" She argued. "Don't say that! Antivenin! I know you created it for Mr. Weasley, you had to have thought to keep some. You'll be alright."

He almost smiled at her. "I'm ready," he repeated softly, feeling himself fade.

She cried still. "I loved you," she told him in a whisper.

"I know," he replied.

He'd been there that day. He'd been waiting for the chance to pass on the sword, having found it difficult to track them at first. Her wards were exquisite. He'd heard the conversation in the tent, and seen the spectacle at the fire outside of it. And he'd known it before then, having picked up on it sometime in his last year teaching her.

Her face screwed up in confusion.

"Let me go," he said, wondering where this patience he was displaying came from. Though, he supposed that facing death as he did know, tended to put things in perspective. "Let... me..."

Hermione watched something deep within his eyes vanish, and felt his hand go limp. She watched him she didn't know how long after, hopeful and thinking that perhaps he was just unconscious for a moment. But she knew better. She wasn't sure how long she sat there crying, and she only left after hearing Voldemort's message. By the time she got back to the castle, Harry'd already gone to the Forbidden Forest to confront him.

And when she heard Harry's taunt- _"He loved my mother all his life"_ \- she understood. Severus Snape, the only man she had ever loved, had already has his heart stolen long before he stole hers.

And that was okay.

 **A/N: Just a one shot that came to mind. It had to come out! Next I shall be updating Phantom Faces I think. I'll have think. Meh. Thinking. Hope you liked this. Let me know!**

 **Mia.**


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